


Changeable

by Thomas_H_Bombadil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Exploring the Lupin family, Nymphadora Tonks Dies, Okay but seriously where has Lyall been this whole time?, Other, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Remus Lupin Lives, Single Parent Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 14:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thomas_H_Bombadil/pseuds/Thomas_H_Bombadil
Summary: Can any child escape the burdens prior generations place on them? Teddy Lupin certainly can't. A young Teddy struggles to navigate a rather fractured post-war Wizarding World and the shards of a family marred by tragedy.[In short: Alternate universe musings where Remus survives, it's complicated with Andromeda, and everyone in this goddamn family has hangups.]





	1. Part One: Homecoming

Lyall peeled back the faded yellow curtain and squinted at the rusty weathervane mounted on the garden shed. Although the winds buffeted the cottage walls, the weathervane, shaped like a german shepherd, remained perfectly still, perpendicular to the prevailing current.

Today marked the third day in the row the weathervane faced due north, despite winds coming from all directions. Maybe the _Prophet_ had stopped lying, and the recent headlines about You-Know-Who being finished off at Hogwarts were true.

Lyall ambled to the round kitchen table and filled a pipe with fragrant tobacco as he contemplated whether to see things for himself that day. Maybe he’d venture out to Diagon Alley. He could certainly confirm the truth at the Leaky Cauldron. If it was safe to go there, that is.

He lit the pipe with his wand. As he breathed in a lungful of sweet smoke, he turned over the latest copy of the _Prophet_. Received only two days ago, the paper was already finger-smudged and dog-eared on the page where the list of Hogwarts casualties was printed.

He’d read that list twenty times. He recognized some of the names — surnames mostly— but one in particular stood out. _Nymphadora Tonks_. Lyall had held only a passing familiarity with the Tonks family before his son, Remus, had written him a year ago announcing his marriage to their daughter, Nymphadora. He’d never met the girl, of course, for they’d been forced into hiding shortly after. But he was sure it was her name, and she was now listed among dead.

He read the list over and over again for Remus’s name, but never found it. There was no question his only son would have been at Hogwarts castle that night. If he was not listed in the _Prophet_, surely he was still alive. And yet…

A faint drumming vibrated across the roof as the early summer storm engulfed the village. As the rain began to fall, Lyall finished his pipe and made his resolve. With one last glance at the dog-shaped weathervane — still pointed a resolute north — he strode towards his traveling cloak, which hung on a hook beside the door. Just as he pulled it across the shoulders, there was a knock upon the door.

Lyall froze.

He held out his wand in front of him and said, “Who’s there?”

There was a long pause. Lyall heard behind the wooden planks the sound of someone catching their breath.

“It’s me, Dad. It’s Remus.”

Lyall flung open the door. Sure enough, there he was: damp, tired-eyed, and every bit the son he hadn’t seen or heard from in over a year. No sooner could Remus protest about Lyall’s neglect of security questions than the old many grasped Remus into a hug.

But Remus pressed one hand against Lyall’s chest, holding him back, and cried, “Careful!”

And that’s when Lyall saw the infant, wrapped tightly in the blanket, sleeping soundly in the crook of Remus’s arm.


	2. Part One: Grandson

“You _could_ have written me,” said Lyall, holding the sleeping child carefully. It was remarkable how different and yet familiar the tiny creature was. He looked quite a bit like Remus had at that size, but the shape of the eyes was different. From a certain angle, he swore he could see a trace of Hope in the child’s nose. He smiled as the baby yawned in his sleep.

“I wanted to, believe me,” said Remus tiredly. They sat across the table from each other, two mugs of steaming tea set between them. “But it wasn’t safe…”

“Not every day a man becomes a grandfather!” Lyall chided.

Remus smiled slightly. “I couldn’t risk sending a letter in case anyone intercepted it.” He hesitated. “Dora… Dora was marked by certain Pureblood relatives who’d aligned themselves with Voldemort. I scarcely need to state that they didn’t approve of her marriage to a werewolf. If the wrong people found out we’d had a child, it would have made it that much more dangerous.”

Lyall considered this with a frown. “That’s all over now, though, isn’t it? That’s what they’re saying, at least, if you dare to believe that.” He gestured to the open copy of _The Daily Prophet_.

Remus nodded. “There are still many followers at large, of course, but Kingsley Shacklebolt is making quick work of rounding them up.”

“I’ve been watching that old weathervane all year,” said Lyall. “All year it pointed south. Wouldn’t budge and inch. Then, three days ago, it turned north for the first time, so I knew something must’ve happened. A victory of some kind. Perhaps a small one, but a victory nonetheless. I’d only worked up the courage to see for myself when you arrived.”

Teddy’s squirmed slightly in his sleep, and the infant’s hair quickly shifted from light brown to a faint blue. Lyall exclaimed.

“That happens when he’s sleeping, usually,” said Remus simply. “He gets that from his mother.”

There was a long silence. Nymphadora Tonks. Lyall hesitated, then said, “I read in the paper… Is it true…?”

“Yes,” said Remus quickly. The younger man stared out the window, his eyes suddenly dark and overcast as the storm outside, hands clasped around his mug. In his long life, Lyall had only ever managed to poke at grief with a ten-foot pole. He hadn’t spoken Hope’s name for six months after she died. Now Remus’s expression was oddly closed; it was plain he wished to say no more on the matter of Nymphadora Tonks.

“Anyway,” said Remus after a long moment. He cleared his throat. “It’s just me and Teddy now. That’s why I came here, actually, apart from wanting you to meet your grandson, of course.”

“What do you need?” said Lyall.

“Truthfully? I need your help. The full moon is tomorrow night, and someone needs to look after him. You’ve done it before, so I expect it won’t be that difficult. I’ve brought everything he needs.”

Lyall felt a squirm of guilt, as he always did when Remus’s… _condition_ became a matter of practicality. He still felt responsible, even after all these years. Not that he’d ever told Remus the truth of Greyback… Sometime he wondered if Remus had ever found out. That boy often knew more than he’d let on… always had, that one.

“Erm, well, actually your mother did, ah, most of the… nappies… lullabies…. that sort of… thing… I mean —He has got a grandmother, right?” burst Lyall. Then he added hopefully, “Maybe even an aunt?”

“Yes, he has got a grandmother,” said Remus, barely keeping the bitter edge out of his voice. “And I’d send Teddy to her if I’d believe I’d ever get him back.”

“What do you mean?” said Lyall perplexed.

“I take it you never met Andromeda Tonks,” said Remus flatly. He sighed heavily. “I can’t pretend she ever thought I was fit to father her grandchildren, but now that… now that Dora’s gone…” He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence.

“I can’t read your mind, Remus!” said Lyall impatiently. “Spit it out.”

Remus rolled his shoulder and folded his arms, an old habit he’d retained since his youth when he was struggling with something uncomfortable.

“We were staying with them,” Remus began, “in hiding, during this last year of the war… Dora and myself. She was an auror, you know. A rather good one. Like me, she’d joined the Order of the Phoenix. So, when the Ministry fell, she lost her job, and we had to go underground. She was pregnant already… we had to do everything to keep her safe. I had nowhere secure enough to offer, so her parents took us in. They had plenty of enchantments on the house already, and Ted — Dora’s father, who Teddy’s named for — and I spent weeks adding to those. Ted Tonks seemed to take a liking to me, but Andromeda was rather defensive. I can’t say I really blame her; after all, who would want their only daughter marrying a werewolf, much less bringing him home to live?”

Lyall listened raptly. “Go on,” he said, knowing Remus’s story wasn’t finished.

Remus took a long sip of his tea before continuing. “Of course, Andromeda did come to tolerate me over those months in hiding, but mostly for Dora’s sake. I went to Hogwarts that night when the Order had been called. Dora was supposed to stay home with Teddy, but she didn’t. She followed me instead…”

Remus stared bitterly at his tea.

“She left Teddy with Andromeda to look after him. That was more than three days ago, and I’ve only managed to get him back this morning,” said Remus bitterly. “She was, ah, very reluctant to give him up. I’m expecting I’ll be getting letters from the Department for Control of Magical Creatures any day now saying I’ll have to. I don't expect even Voldemort’s fall will make them change their tune. When all's said and done, I can see their point.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” scoffed Lyall. “He’s your son.”

“Maybe Adromeda’s right,” said Remus. “I am a danger to him. She’s not wrong about that.”

“No, you won’t be,” said Lyall firmly. He met Remus’s eye directly. “You’ll be far away for the full moon, and I’ll be looking after him until you get back.”

Remus didn’t smile, but the mixture of gratitude and exhaustion was palpable. Lyall wondered briefly when was the last time Remus had slept. Had there been a funeral for Nymphadora? Had Remus even been allowed to go, what with everything he’d just been told about this Andromeda? Where had Remus even been staying since his wife’s death? He wondered all these things, knowing there would be time to pry it out. Perhaps over weeks. Comfortably. From a distance.

Lyall rocked his grandson slightly as the child opened his bleary eyes and rolled his fists. “Well, look who’s woken up at last.” Lyall smiled, gazing at the black, unfocused eyes.

“Do you still smoke, Dad?” asked Remus, his eyes falling on the tobacco pipe, now sitting on the windowsill.

“Yes, of course. Keeps me young!”

“Ah… er, did you know you’re not supposed to do that around babies?”

“Since when?” asked Lyall.

Remus could only stare at him.

“So you’ll be staying here now?” broached Lyall. “You’re more than welcome, of course, as you always have been,” said Lyall. “You and little Teddy both.”

“Well see,” said Remus quietly.


End file.
